Hunger for you FrUK
by xxHunter
Summary: Arthur wakes up in a rainy day and Francis is at his door, with a song he wrote for the brit... France x UK, FrancexUK story much better than summary .


Hunger for you - FrUK

The rain fell hard outside and made the morning look like noon. Arthur sighed, covering his head with the covers and remembering himself how much he hated these mornings.  
"Bloody hell…" He closed his eyes, trying to calm down, and listened to the sound of the falling rain. It made him get more and more tired, and he was almost asleep when it happened… The annoying DING-DONG of his bell shook him out of his sleep and he groaned. Who was at his door at this time and under the cold English rain?  
Hopping out of his warm bed he dragged himself to the first floor, wearing only a baggy shirt and underwear, and opened the door with a rude:  
"Wha' is it, danm?"

But never expected **that** guy to be there, in wet clothes, and wet hair and wet face with that wet perv smile.  
"Bon jour, mon petit!" Francis smiled, seeing Arthur's eyes widening and his face turning red as he tried to hide his not decent clothes behind the door.  
"Wha' in bloody hell are ye doing here?" The brit glared, noticing the paper almost-destroyed-by-the-rain in the French's hand.  
"Oh, I came to visit mon petit fiancé!" Francis smiled "Drink some tea, talk, have sex in the hallway…"

By the time he ended his sentence the door was slammed on his face.

"Artzur! Mon anglais! Come on! I was just kidding! Don't leave me outside! I wrote a song for you! Artzur, it's raining! Open up!"

The british just rolled his eyes and went back to bed, trying to get some sleep, at least until it stopped raining…  
Who said he slept? Arthur kept turning on his bed, trying to go to beautiful dreamland but not even getting near the gates. When he finally started really falling asleep, weir dreams would pop in his mind and (not ever admitting he kind of liked them) he would wake up.

With that, half an hour passed, then one hour, then two, three…  
He sat on his bed and looked outside, wondering if the storm would ever stop.  
"Oh, whatever…" he murmured to himself, standing up again and walking slowly to the kitchen. Maybe some good ol' tea would help him. But as he picked his favorite tea pot (the one with England's flag on it) he heard something outside his window.

"Artzur, mon cherie! Let me read the song I wrote!"  
Oh, no. That frog was still outside? Or had he gone and now was back? He didn't have time to think about this, outside Francis started singing, loud enough to be heard over the rain noise.

_"My body waits for you, my mouth asking for yours.  
I look at you, teasingly, I want your hallucination.  
Your eyes say 'yes', I want your madness.  
The delusions of your pleasure on your body are."_

Oh, goodness. Arthur's eyes widened and he went to the window. His neighbors were looking to the French too, frightened with that….pornographic poem.

_ "Looking at me with blind hunger, and hotness…  
Unobscuring my wills and my fantasies.  
Make me your madness, give all your ecstasy.  
Because now, my wills are yours."_

The brit only wanted to hide himself in a very deep hole. Why? Why that idiot had to write such a music for him? Why he had to sing it in a rainy day? A day everybody could be at home, listening Francis and commenting "What kind of boyfriend our neighbor have?"  
Wait! Oh, goodness! They would think of Francis as his **boyfriend**!!

_ "So dive your body, kill our desire.  
Let me invade your fever body, humid and already naked.  
I want your mouth, the saliva, the texture of your kiss.  
Bold gestures, audacious, keeping us mute."_

He looked out of the window one more time. Francis was happily singing in the rain. He had to do something…

_"Each part of me shows that is longing you.  
I want to see you hallucinating, lost in pleasure.  
On the waves of your curves, my delight.  
And naked on my sheets, come, I want you."_

What would he do? Go outside and show everybody he knew the guy?

_  
"Naked bodies touching, crazy.  
Moving cadenced, discovering each way.  
Crazy mouths, hands, legs, screwing.  
Blood boiling in the veins, pleasure in refrain."_

He couldn't take it any more. Opening the door widely, he got out, getting all soaked with the rain. He grabbed the French by his hair and dragged him inside, trying not to look to the other houses.  
"Mais, mon cherie! I'm not finished!" Francis whined, half laughing. Arthur ignored him and locked the door, furious.  
"Just the last verse to go, oui?"  
"SHUT UP! Enough of this bloody thing!" The brit snapped "You did it on purpose! To embarrass me!"

Francis raised an eyebrow, seeing the other get red with anger.

"You waited 'til I was up again and started this….this…this stupid French song!"  
He crossed his arms and glared harder then he had ever done.  
"Ye're a bloody bastard!"

Francis only sighed, and rolled his eyes.  
_"Shameless and crazy, I give myself only to you…  
Looking in your eyes, while I fell you and me.  
And hallucinating, insane, writhing in groans I hear.  
Come now, anglais que j'aime, explode with me."_

He finished the poem, slowly and quieter than before. Arthur blushed. That was so…  
"Stupid! Stupid poem!" He snapped.  
Francis putted his hands on the other's hips:  
"I knew you would like it." He smiled "At first I thought about making a fluffy poem about you green eyes. But it wouldn't be… you know, moi."

"Of course." Arthur sighed "Let's just get some towels and get off of this wet clothes…"  
"Oui, I like how it sounds." Francis smiled again.  
"P-perv!" the brit blushed harder the ever, noticing what he had just said. Francis only moved closer and touched Arthur's forehead with his own. He chuckled.

"You're cute when you blush."  
"S-shut up, bloody frog!"  
He tried to look away, but the Frenchman held his chin with one hand, and stole a quick kiss.  
"I brought you something." He picked a red rose in his pocket and handed it to Arthur, the he just entered the house, making himself at home "You still have that coffee we bought last time I came, oui?"

The british sighed, looking at his rose, he was so sure they would drink some tea, talk and end up having sex in the hallway…

**In the next morning Arthur would go to the market and his neighbors would stop him to say "Your boyfriend sings very well, mister Kirkland."  
"Beautiful lyrics, mister Kirkland!"  
"Where can I find the mp3 version, mister Kirkland?"**

Hehehe  
Hey, mina-san! o/

The poem in the fic is from Glória Salles, I translated it to english, it's much better in Portuguese, really.

Anyway… That's the very first _**good**_** FrUK fic I write _  
The others suck, really. =___="**

But some people are asking for me to finish "War", so I'll be a hero and do it! o7

Hope you liked!! Reviews will be loved! 3


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